


Der Verdruss

by CuddleMeister



Category: Fire Emblem Musou | Fire Emblem Warriors, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Teasing, minor Fire Emblem Warriors spoilers, pork stew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddleMeister/pseuds/CuddleMeister
Summary: He didn't understand - was it the mounting stress caused by being stranded in a foreign realm? Was it the sudden lack of familiarity, or routine? Had he truly relied on the intimate companionship of the Shepherds that much in the past? Frederick had no answers to any of these questions, but he did know one thing:With each passing day, he found himself yearning for the outlaw's wagging tongue, and perhaps even more.Based loosely on Frederick and Niles' A+ conversation.





	Der Verdruss

**Author's Note:**

> Verdruss [m] - a German noun for "vexation" or "annoyance"

Frederick prided himself in few things, but if one were to force him to state what he thought was his strongest quality, he would not hesitate to say it was his patience. Yes, he was also quite careful - why else would his liege call him "Frederick the Wary?" But he had years of experience enduring the strange and varying personalities of prince Chrom and princess Lissa. He was also silently aware of what a commanding presence he had amongst the Shepherds, acting as both their beacon of military guidance and their source of trepidation if ever he caught them lazing about camp. He knew countless ways to make life for his fellow soldiers as efficient and smooth as possible. He was usually the first one up and about in the dark morning, and often the last one to retire to his tent, always busying himself with tasks that would sometimes seem unnecessary to his peers. He, however, saw the importance in each duty he performed.  
  
When Frederick, Robin, and the two royal siblings found themselves stranded in a foreign world, the great knight had steeled himself for anything that came their way. The alliance with Aytolis had been unexpected, but it was simply another factor for him to add to his long, long mental list of things to do and things to look out for. Chrom and Lissa had taken warmly to Rowan, Lianna, and Darios, and while Frederick would have preferred they find their way back to Ylisse on their own, he was quick to let his stubbornness give way to long suffering; after all, it was good to have others to fight with, should they encounter foes.  
  
Why was it now that he found his most honed characteristic beginning to slip when faced with another sort of social force? For all of the gripe that Chrom gave him each day, for all of the childish acts that he had to prevent Lissa from carrying out, wouldn't he surely be able to withstand the guile of an ally he was forced to work with? The man had slipped into their lives discreetly as Rowan's group set out on their own to Desolate Gorge. Frederick never even met the man while their group proceeded to ally with the Hoshidan siblings. It was only after the chaos had settled in calming the Nohrian and Hoshidan families and Rowan and Lianna had regrouped that Frederick had a chance to meet his black armor-clad Nohrian associates, in addition to one's wily retainer.   
  
Frederick had many chances to converse with the Nohrian royals as he kept himself at Chrom's disposal at all times, and was pleased to find the siblings quite approachable to even a lowly great knight like himself. As he was bustling about one day, fetching history books on Aytolisian fort structures for prince Leo, he had asked for the retainer's name.  
  
"Ah, that's Niles," Leo responded, accepting a stack of books gratefully. "He's very capable, but I pray you not let him bother you...he has an affinity for stoking people's fires, so to speak."  
  
It intrigued Frederick that Leo would go out of his way to warn the knight of his retainer's behavior without an elicited request, so he took to watching the outlaw carefully throughout the following days.   
  
And Leo's warnings were not unfounded. Frederick's brow furrowed more the longer he watched Niles interact with his allies. He treated nearly everyone the same - royalty, retainers, simple passersby, it didn't matter to him - all were subject to a silver tongue and a vulgar mind. The only time Frederick saw Niles remain tame in his manner was at the side of his lord.  
  
At first, Frederick kept quiet, confident that Niles' liege would put a stop to his misconduct, but his confidence shrunk as the days came and went, as Niles whispered this and that to his fellow foreign comrades, until finally Frederick decided he would see to the matter personally. After all, it was just one more line added to his long, long mental list.  
  
The confrontation went far from how he had expected. He had solved the problem, sort of, but instead of simply convincing Niles to tone down his obscenities, he had made an compromise that he knew he would soon regret. In exchange for Niles promising to hold his tongue in front of the other soldiers, now he would be the sole recipient of the outlaw's lewd behavior.

"I've a feeling we'll see far more of each other in the coming days," Niles had said with a grin as he made his leave of Frederick. "I don't think you realize just how _deep_ you've gotten yourself."  
  
Frederick had taken the outlaw's words as more of a harbinger of dread than a threat, but he soon came to understand the consequences of his compromise. Aytolis continued its assault on Gristonne, the various allies from other Realms continued to cooperate with Aytolis, and Frederick certainly saw more of Niles.  
  
The first few times that Niles sauntered up to the great knight with an innocent "Good day, Fred Bear~" Frederick had taken the comments just as he would if Chrom were pleading him not to knit him another scarf. He was diligent, he was used to those around him trying to make him relent, and he certainly wouldn't let a mere archer break his patience. Niles proved to be a worthy opponent, however, as his comments soon turned into feigned conversation. He would ask how he could help around camp, and when Frederick would thank him and ask him to make sure each tent was properly supplied with warm bedding, he would reply, "Oh, I can assure you that if anyone is cold at night, it'd be my pleasure to warm them up."  
  
Frederick had remained silent in response to the outlaw's words at first, but soon he found himself glaring at the man. Niles' would laugh at his scowls, and would even sometimes obey his requests as a way to milk the teat of opportunity and find more ways to bother him. It was all a game to Niles. He never once lay a finger on Frederick, but he proved skillful in the art of causing others as much discomfort as he could. He was slowly whittling away at the great knight's wall-like defenses, and he knew it. It irritated Frederick to admit, but he had to do something, _anything_ , to ease the growing discomfort.

Then, one day, Frederick made the horrible decision that perhaps the outlaw simply needed a friend, and that he could be that friend. After all, both the Ylissan and Nohrian allies were foreign to the realm of Aytolis. Even Frederick found himself missing the Shepherds, the climate of his home in Ylisstol, and the war on Plegia. Maybe Leo's retainer felt similar, and would calm his sharp tongue if he had someone to open up to.  
  
The great knight made immediate plans to volunteer as cook and server for the following evening, as he knew Niles was often one of the last in the army to eat dinner. When the night came, Frederick ladled stew into bowls in the grateful and callused hands of his allies. His smiles betrayed them. Yes, his servant's heart was present in his cooking duties, and he was humbly appreciative of every compliment his dinner received, but the smiles hid an apprehension for when the outlaw would inevitably emerge from the shadows for his own dinner. The mess area filled, then dwindled in number as the soldiers finished their meals and either left to complete other tasks or stayed to chat in groups. Frederick had even begun to fret that perhaps the outlaw would not dine that evening, until a nefarious chuckle carried through the mess area and caught Frederick's attention. The archer was leaned over the table next to his liege, discussing something out of earshot. Frederick swallowed as Niles gestured to his master he was taking his leave a moment later, and strode up to a stiff Frederick who was already dishing out a serving for him.

"My, my, Fred Bear," Niles purred, "you've outdone yourself this evening. Would you humor me and throw in a few extra potatoes? I'd like my serving thick, if you please."

Frederick sifted through the dregs of the stew for more potatoes before handing him his bowl, ignoring the retainer's wink in response. As Niles made to take the bowl, however, Frederick's grip remained firm, stopping him.

"Would you actually wait a moment before you eat?" he asked. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me tonight for dinner."

The retainer's giggle was a nearly childish, high-pitched thing that made Frederick start. It was as though he was imitating a school girl.

"Why, Freddy, I'd be delighted. I didn't think you'd ask me on a date so soon!"

Before Frederick was able to snap at him, Niles had turned on his heels and made for an empty mess table. Frederick calmed his enraged pulse by ladling one final bowl of stew for himself and lightly cleaning his station before cupping the bowl and joining the archer at his table. Niles was stirring the contents of his stew idly as Frederick took a seat across from him. The great knight began to eat immediately, but Niles instead scooped spoonfuls of the broth and examined it like a child might scrutinize a vegetable. 

"There's nothing wrong with it, if you're worried about taste," Frederick muttered. "It's just potatoes, carrots, and that wild boar prince Xander took down yesterday."

"I hold no qualms with your stew," Niles began. "I'm simply coaxing it into cooling."  
  
"Ah, you dislike hot temperature foods?"

"I dislike when hot foods draw me in and punish my hunger with a burnt tongue," the outlaw mumbled.

Frederick smiled politely. "My apologies. Had I known, I wouldn't have kept a fire burning beneath the pot. Prince Leo tells me your people come from a cold environment, so I thought you might savor the heat."

"I savor heat in more," Niles snorted, "intimate settings. But growing up on the streets forced me to accept my food however it came, which was usually cold. I suppose that's why I burn my mouth so easily."

Frederick sipped at his broth thoughtfully as he took in the archer's words. Was he actually succeeding in making civil conversation with Nohr's craftiest retainer? Was it really as simple as providing the rogue with friendly company?

"It must've been difficult, growing up on the streets," Frederick offered. The rogue did not answer, but instead made sure Frederick knew how intently he was staring at the great knight. Frederick hesitated to meet the other man's eye, but when he finally did, he was unable to read the expression cutting across Niles' face.

"Why did you offer to dine with me tonight, anyway?" the outlaw asked, his eye narrowing. "If you're trying to garner information on me, then to what end? Your master already trusts my master and his siblings."

"I understand your reluctance, but I'm simply offering you my company. Perhaps we can get to know each other a little bit better."

Niles chuckled. "A fair case, but I like to think I'm good at picking out ulterior motives when I see them. What do you _really_ want from me? A night alone, perhaps...?"

"I simply wanted your fellowship," Frederick insisted, the suggestive jab nearly flying over his head. "We're both foreigners from distant worlds. Why not share the battlefield as friends instead of mere allies?"

Niles' lips curled upward. He brought a spoonful of the stew into his mouth and, as he chewed, a thin steam of broth trickled down the side of his lips. Frederick watched the stream fall lazily, only pulling his eyes away when the archer's hand suddenly crept across the table and met his own, slender fingers etching lines down the metacarpals beneath Frederick's skin.

Frederick was frozen in Niles' gaze as the outlaw murmured, "Oh, I can be much more than just a friend, Frederick."

Frederick was vaguely aware of the other man leaning across the table toward him, but he couldn't find himself able to move. A suppressed warmth pooled in both his core and in his face, coloring his cheeks despite him never remembering being embarrassed. Why was he so warm? Why wasn't he able to move? By the time his thoughts began uncoiling, he could feel Niles' hot breath against his lips. He managed to lean back a bit. Niles was sneering in genuine amusement.

"You alright?" he asked with the cock of an eyebrow. Frederick could only blink. "Fine, fine, I'll back off. You look like you could burst before my very eyes. Tempting as I would find that, I don't think it would be appropriate at a mess table." He cupped his cheeks in fake worry. "Whatever would your dear Chrom think of _that_?"

At the mention of his liege, Frederick exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding in and shook himself from his sudden reverie. He noticed how glazed his eyes had become, how quickly the warmth inside of him had spread. He coveted something in the man sitting across from him with a vulpine smirk, was suddenly aware of his dark fingers still draped across his own hand, prickling his nerves and giving him a great urge to clasp those fingers. 

"I'll leave you to screw your head back on straight," the outlaw teased, taking his empty bowl - how had he finished his food so fast? - and standing. "You don't look so good. You should probably rest. You're welcome to come to me for _aid_ , should you need it."

As Niles wove around the table to leave, Frederick caught how the tendons of his arms shifted beneath his tight sleeves, visible even in the dark of evening, how his cloak coquettishly draped his shoulders and billowed at Frederick like a beckoning hand, how the deep V of his tunic allowed Frederick a peek of his chest. And then the outlaw was gone, leaving Frederick alone with his cooling bowl of stew.

What had he done? And what had just happened to him?

Frederick had completed the remaining items on his daily list of duties mechanically, his thoughts completely elsewhere. Even Chrom had mentioned before he left for bed that the great knight seemed "stiffer than usual." Frederick had conjured a reassuring smile and told his prince that he felt fine, which seemed to appease his liege successfully enough. He finally retired to his own tent in the early hours of the morning, hoping to the gods that he would feel more like himself when he awoke.

Alas, the gods' favor did not smile upon Frederick as his thoughts grew more distracted with each day. Sure, he still managed to keep tabs on his duties, and sure, he was successful in propping himself up by pure servitude when it came to meeting the needs of those around him, but a strange mixture of emotion festered within the recesses of the great knight's mind. He dreaded the sun with each new day, knowing that somehow the archer would be shadowing him, awaiting an opportunity to strike. He braced himself more and more severely as the words Niles whispered in Frederick's ear grew more and more lewd.

What Frederick hated most of all was the fact that he was finding himself...desiring...the outlaw's dirty charm. He loathed to admit it, but with each interaction he faced, Frederick imagined Niles touching his hand like he had during dinner, maybe even sliding his fingers elsewhere. He wondered what would have happened if the outlaw had continued to push forward when he had leaned across the table toward him that night. He didn't understand - was it the mounting stress caused by being stranded in a foreign realm? Was it the sudden lack of familiarity, or routine? Had he truly relied on the intimate companionship of the Shepherds that much in the past? Frederick had no answers to any of these questions, but he did know one thing:  
  
With each passing day, he found himself yearning for the outlaw's wagging tongue, and perhaps even more.

* * *

 Frederick was inwardly thankful that Aytolis' newest allies were Atlean. Chrom was often too distracted fawning over the Hero-King-to-be Marth to notice Frederick's slow decline in health. No, Frederick hadn't fallen sick - Lissa would have been the first one to notice even a fever - but he had been losing sleep, even in the wake of his list of duties. He put off retiring to his tent each night as of late, for whenever he lay on his cot, his thoughts now lingered, keeping his mind far too active to sleep. He was even tempted to stroke himself to release, if only that would eliminate the thoughts.

Being back on the march with Aytolis' troops alleviated some of the great knight's pent-up energy the next morning, the drone of routine bringing him momentarily back to his senses, but with nightfall the incredible ache returned as the army set up camp, having made far better progress than expected. Frederick stood alongside his prince as the royals discussed battle plans for the following day, listening closely. His mind tried on so many occasions to drift toward more obscene scenarios, but the priorities of battle and strategy were just pressing enough to draw Frederick's attention to what mattered most - keeping himself and others alive. 

The brief counsel dispersed - far too quickly for Frederick's liking - and the great knight accompanied Chrom to hopefully anywhere but his tent, as such a destination would signal the end of his duties for the evening. The prince chatted with his ivory-haired tactician as they went, but Frederick paid no attention to their conversation. He felt a mild breeze break from the treetops, and imagined deft fingers flitting across his skin instead of the tendrils of wind. Nearby, he watched as Princes Takumi and Ryoma were locked in a battle of wits over a go board. Takumi's tongue prodded from his mouth in thought and concentration, swiping from side to side. Frederick suppressed a shiver, and suddenly Chrom addressed him.

"Alright, Frederick, what's going on?" he asked. The great knight at first thought the statement was directed elsewhere, but Chrom stopped in his tracks and turned to regard him, crossing his arms loosely.

"M-My apologies, milord," he stuttered, stiffening to attention. "Could you repeat that?"

"You've been acting strange lately. Is everything okay?"

"I assure you, I'm right as rain." The great knight plastered a polite smile on his face, hoping it didn't appear too strained. "Perhaps I've been simply pushing myself harder than usual since we've acquired more allies."

"Alright, but what about your favorite chore?" Chrom swept an open palm across the path before them. "It's so odd to not see you moving rocks from the trail."

At that Frederick's eyes widened. Indeed, even in the dimming light of dusk, the pathway was littered with stray gravel. How careless of him! His prince could have easily tripped at least three times since their departure from the meeting.

"Please forgive me, sir! I'll get to work right away." The great knight made to move around Chrom and begin clearing the path, but Chrom's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"No no, you're missing my point," he retorted. "I'm not saying you're doing a bad job. You know I don't care whether or not you clear rocks when we walk. But for you to neglect one of your favorite duties makes me worried about your health."

"You've seemed quite distracted these past few days," added Robin, who gingerly stepped between the great knight and the path. "For instance, you only stoked the fires of our last camp once each."

"Only once!?" came Chrom, incredulously. He eyed Frederick sternly, inducing a shameful red in the great knight's cheeks. "Alright, you're resting. Robin and I will see to the rest of tonight's chores."

"Of course, milord," Frederick almost mumbled. "I'll retire to my tent as soon as I've walked you safely..." Frederick's voice faltered as Chrom shook his head. Beside him, Robin's lips dipped into a concerned frown.

"Not later - now," Chrom said. "You'll go to your tent now, and you'll rest. That's an order, Frederick," he added upon seeing the great knight begin to open his mouth to speak. 

 Frederick stifled a sigh through sheer force of courtesy, tucking his frustrations behind his back with his hands and nodding instead. "Yes, milord," he said, perhaps a bit more rigidly than he should have, but if Chrom took offense to the gesture, he did not show it. Even as Frederick spun tersely on his heels and made for his own tent, he felt the prince's eyes boring through his armor. Chrom truly meant for him to go straight for his tent, so he could obey, if only just that.

The poor great knight was alone with his thoughts once more in the seclusion of his tent, and he despised how quickly the thoughts were affecting him, physically. His hands lingered as he undressed, and he envisioned fingers not his own brushing his bare skin as he stripped his many layers of the day. By the time he was in his night clothing, he could feel himself filling out beneath the fabric at his groin. Even alone, he felt the urge to cover his bulge. What if his prince were to waltz in and see him flourishing down there? How would he explain his behavior? Sure, he knew all the men - and even the women - in the Shepherds had moments of want and desire, and being in the midst of war gave little relief to that want but the ability to request a private tent on occasion. Frederick was usually patient, however. He had more important things to worry about than carnal needs.

Except for tonight.

A low growl reverberated in Frederick's chest as he reluctantly climbed into his cot and turned the lamp light beside him down low. Settling beneath his linens, he listened to the activities occurring outside his tent without him present. The night was still young, as far as he was concerned, and it showed in the occasional footsteps that passed his tent by. People were carrying out his duties -  _for him._ A small part of him was grateful that the others were willing to take on his tasks in his time of rest, but a much larger part wanted to know if they were doing their jobs right, if they were correctly performing their tasks. But that would require exiting his tent, and he feared the consequences of his prince, should he find out that Frederick was not resting as instructed.

Frederick closed his eyes and shifted his hands down his clothed abdomen. His face grew warm, in spite of himself, as he let one hand grip the waist of his smallclothes while the other drifted inside them. A wet heat was already present in his groin area, and as Frederick wrapped hesitant fingers around himself, the heat only stirred. The great knight sighed low and deeply, as though he were finally getting around to seeking out an infernal itch. The slow pump his hand was orchestrating did little to scratch that itch, but it was better than the two or three days of hell he had endured without any such touch. He had fantasized about both men and women before, neither to which he would ever admit. Rarely were the fantasies about specific individuals, however. Perhaps he had seen a lovely fruit monger in passing, a charming stable keep had made pleasant conversation with him. He was having thoughts of only one person tonight, however, as he stroked himself more comfortably now.

He could almost see the outlaw prodding into his tent, seemingly unnoticed. Frederick's sight was hazed, almost glassy with a mounting lust that thrummed in his torso with every stroke of his hand. The illusionary outlaw watched him with narrowed eyes that almost whispered for him to come, to join him in a better place, to do better things, with him. The great knight maintained his rhythm, however, testing the mirage with a coy quirk of his own lips. At that, the imaginary outlaw stifled a giggle into an open palm, and Frederick faltered. His vision cleared, his hand slowed considerably, and as the haze lifted, the outlaw remained at the flap of his tent, an unreadable smirk on his face. It was _actually_  him.

"N-Niles!" Frederick stammered, his hand freezing altogether. 

"Shall I tell Prince Chrom that you're..." Niles crossed his arms casually and made a show of eying the great knight from head to toe, "...taking care of yourself?"

"What are you doing in here!?"

"You heard me, I'm sure. Your liege asked me to make sure you were tucked in."

"Why would he ask someone like you to check on me?"

"Something along the lines of he feared if he or Robin came to visit, you'd try and politely coerce them into letting you continue slaving about. Plus, you think he hasn't noticed how much time we've spent together lately, what with our...'agreement?'"

Frederick shuddered. Of course his prince would check up on him, but he would never have expected someone like Niles to be his messenger. Plus, how much had the outlaw seen of him bucking softly into his fist? He had laughed, so he had seen at least something. It was a wonder that he wasn't mulling on the act verbally.

"So what shall I tell your lord?" Niles asked with a tilt of the head. "I doubt he'd be interested to know you're currently beating yourself off in your tent. I, on the other hand, am _dying_ to know why you're pleasuring yourself."

So he _had_ seen. Frederick swallowed to wet the mouth he didn't know was dry. 

"That's...not any of your business," he managed.

"I suppose not," the outlaw responded, taking a step toward the great knight. "But I make it my business when I see you touching yourself and you don't immediately stop when you catch sight of me. I do wish you'd at least humor me with the reason of _that_ detail." Frederick remained frozen in his cot, and he watched as Niles' gaze drifted to his sheets. He knew Frederick was still erect, somehow, even in the act of being caught. The very thought made the great knight throb, and he hated himself for it.

"Surely I wasn't the subject of your fantasies, was I?" Niles continued. Frederick shifted uncomfortably in his cot, but said nothing. "Oh-ho I _was_ , eh?" His statement was elongated by heaving laughter, a fit of giggles like that of a jackal. Frederick blanched, hoping that no others in the camp would be drawn to attention by the sound, but Niles obviously didn't care. "What's the matter, Fred Bear? Has your throat gone hoarse with you screaming my name?" They were agonizing, the words that so carelessly dripped from the outlaw's lips. He made no advances, gods curse him, only stood over the great knight's cot with arms crossed and grin wicked. Why couldn't he force himself upon Frederick so that he'd have the perfect excuse to throw the outlaw out on his arse like he deserved?

"You're cruel," the great knight finally uttered. Niles seemed to not have heard him, his gaze focused instead on the knot in Frederick's sheets that no doubt contained his fistful of external organ. He stared for a few moments, stoking further heat into the great knight's cheeks.

"I'm that, and many other things, I'm afraid," he said, a bit more seriously than Frederick would have expected. He gradually took a step back, implying an eventual exit. "Well, I suppose if you're quite...entertained...I'll report to your prince that you're resting well enough. Unless you'd like me to tell him something else, of course."

"Wait..." Frederick muttered. The outlaw shot him a sideways glance before he sighed.

"Ah, here we go. Please, feel free to refine my report to your whims."

"N-No, it's not...that..."

Niles' arms uncrossed and drifted to his sides. The change of stance seemed to make him stretch a couple of inches taller than before - it was a stance of challenge. His expression remained even, but Frederick saw the hunger that flitted across the man's gaze. He knew exactly to what Frederick referred, but he would never simply let the great knight have his way. Oh no, he would make Frederick beg for his treat.

"I..." The great knight's voice caught in his throat almost immediately. Niles stood patiently, however. He could play with his food for as long as he wished. "I..." Frederick tried again, "...have not yet reached satisfaction..." The outlaw quirked an eyebrow, giving him a silent _And so what?_  Frederick bit his lip sharply - gods give him strength. "I...would appreciate...assistance."

Niles' lips hardly moved, forming two words that ached all the way from Frederick's head to his engorged tip. The words were a whisper, "From whom?"

The great knight sighed, shifting his linens away from his scorching body so that the outlaw could finally see his naked cock, still grasped in eager fingers. "F-From you," he whimpered.

Niles smiled, a crook of the lips filled with manic lust, as he stepped forward, terribly slowly. By the time he had reached the great knight's cot and crouched before the man's reclining body, Frederick found his hand resuming a slow pump. The outlaw reached, terribly delicately, replacing Frederick's fingers with his own, and the man felt no change in movement or even pressure as his hand fell away from his member, letting Niles work his shaft instead.

"And what could I possibly do to assist you...?" Frederick almost swore Niles was talking to himself, but through rising pants that distracted nearly all of his thoughts, the great knight noted that the other man's eyes rested on him alone. Those hungry eyes, striking him like a shield to the chest, were speckled in curiosity. The rhythm around his cock did not alter in speed at all, and before long the desire for more forced Frederick to conjure a response.

"I..." he choked, failing to resist the urge to buck into the Niles' hand. He wanted more traction. He wanted more speed. He wanted something, but it seemed that the outlaw would perform no special request without a verbal plea. "I...don't _care_...! Use your mouth, or your hand, just please...m-more!"

"Why didn't you just say so?" Niles breathed, his voice dipping deeper than Frederick had ever heard him speak and sending a shiver through his core. His hands left the great knight's length, earning him an irritated groan, but the displeasure was short-lived as Niles took Frederick into his mouth in a single movement. The wet heat that suddenly surrounded Frederick's cock made him greedily gasp for air. No sooner than Frederick had absorbed the sensation around himself, Niles went to work on the great knight's shaft, and what work it was. His lips were supple yet chapped from endless days of windy marches, and they drew heady moan after moan from Frederick's chest. Liquid sounds emanated from the inside of the outlaw's mouth as his tongue invaded every last bit of heated skin Frederick had to offer. His teeth rarely grazed the cock, only in places where he somehow just _knew_ Frederick's breath would catch in ecstasy. Before releasing the great knight's length to come up for air, a smothering pressure squeezed around Frederick's tip as Niles deep throated him with surprising ease, allowing the man to bask in the tight suck at the back of Niles' mouth for a few precious seconds before releasing his cock.

Frederick hated that a strained whimper escaped his lips when Niles swapped his mouth for his hand again, allowing him to pant and sneer at the great knight from the side of his cot. A palm tangled into Niles' snowy mane, attempting to press him onto Frederick's length again, but the outlaw resisted, which only made Frederick's eyes glint with hunger that much more. He tilted his head into his pillow and arched sharply into the outlaw's hand, which pumped mercilessly along his shaft, but it still wasn't enough. Their combined gasping for air was a strange comfort to Frederick, but now that Niles seemed to have caught his breath, Frederick was alone, his labored groans growing more bawdy by the moment. He had rarely panted this hard during any training session, had rarely even felt so heated. His palm grasped a handful of white hair - he needed relief.

Niles' voice came hoarsely, and amidst a deep hum. "Roar for me like the bear you are."

An impossible heat ignited inside the great knight's groin, and the hand fisted into Niles' hair pressed again. The outlaw may have had the upper hand of manipulation, but Frederick had the upper hand of strength. He shoved the outlaw's head back down onto his cock, and Niles made not a sound as his mouth flexed around the great knight's girth once more. His hand stopped, stabilizing himself, and he worked around Frederick's length more vigorously now.

Frederick tilted his head up just enough to stare into the ominous, stormy sea of Niles' gaze. It was if he _knew_ how close the great knight was to climax, and it was all Frederick could take. Oh, how he would relish drowning in those waters. His cries of orgasm were quieter than expected, if only because Frederick feared his larynx would burst if he cried out at full volume. He watched as Niles gripped the cot with his free hand and took every single buck of Frederick's hips with a pleased flutter of his eyelid, swallowing loudly and causing the great knight's cheeks to redden deeply, even at the end. He released Frederick's length without any regard for his sensitivity, and the great knight squirmed beneath him. 

"I'm sure your prince will be happy to know that you're doing _much_ better already," Niles sang, licking his wet lips and standing from the side of the cot. Frederick lay motionless for a moment, bewildered at how casually the outlaw could switch back to conversation. Gods, even his voice was still gravelly from the ram of Frederick's tip. Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke.

"Will you be telling-"

"No, of course I won't," Niles finished for him. "Keep in mind that I also have a lord with which to keep good standing. It would be...troublesome, to say the least, if either of our lords knew, so I doubt you'll tell, either. I must say, though," Niles' lips curled mischievously, "moan any louder next time and you're bound to wake up the whole camp."

"W-What do you mean, _next time_?"

"Do you really think that our 'agreement' has dissipated with me dropping to my knees for you this evening?"

Frederick was shifting to prop himself up on an elbow as he listened, but now he averted his eyes to the floor and and wished that his cot would break beneath him - and the earth as well, while he was at it. The outlaw had a good point. 

"I told you before, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other in the following days, and I don't believe you've seen an inch of _me_." The great knight made the mistake of glancing back up at Niles, and caught the sapphire-like twinkle in his eye. He reached toward the cot, and Frederick froze. His tension eased uncharacteristically, however, when Niles took the man's linens and draped them up to his chest in mock comfort.

"You will go straight to Lord Chrom and then on your merry way," Frederick rumbled as the outlaw turned to the tent's double flaps and pulled one end aside. Niles regarded him over a shoulder with an aloof smile, amused at the great knight's distrust.

"And _you_ will rest so that your prince doesn't come hound me tomorrow for lying to him," he breathed. "Good night, Fred Bear."

The tent flap fell closed behind him as he left. Frederick lay flat on his cot and listened to the fading footsteps, which appeared to lead in the direction of Chrom's tent. Once he was convinced that Niles was actually going to see Frederick's lord, he sighed and pulled his linens over the rest of his body. Adjusting his sleep clothing with chagrin and finding a comfortable position that didn't draw attention to his softening and sensitive groin, Frederick tried not to think about the events that just took place in his tent. He needed not worry, however, as his exhaustion finally caught up with him. Combined with a post-coital drowsiness, Frederick quickly found himself falling asleep with thoughts of white hair, eyepatches, and whatever hid beneath a particular pair of striped breeches.

**Author's Note:**

> This story had been rattling around in my head for ages when the first DLC for FE: Warriors came out. It took far longer than I expected because of work and commute. I feel like this piece was slightly ooc, at least from Frederick's perspective, but then again, I rarely read anything from Frederick's perspective, so I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.  
> I'm still working on the next chapter for my LeoxNiles project, but this, being a one-shot, suddenly took priority for me.  
> I wouldn't terribly mind doing another chapter where the pleasure roles are swapped, but for now I'll take a break from Warriors altogether so I can finish watching about three different seasons of anime. ; w ;  
> Thank you so much for reading!


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